


Angel's Charge

by DanielleAries



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, F/M, i'll update the tags as the story goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:23:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7616182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanielleAries/pseuds/DanielleAries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Hooper. Such a plain name. Young Sherlock had scoffed at the mere mention of his Charge's name, but one look from Mycroft discouraged him from making any further comments. Angels AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Second story here, ahaha! Also been a looong while since I last read Sherlolly/Khanolly fics, needa get my fix soon :(
> 
> Anyway, this is an Angels AU. I'm just referencing general things I know about angels, but putting A LOT of my own interpretations of them as I go along - first chapter here is an intro to Sherlock as an Angel and 'rules' to being said Angel. It's all fiction, all this angel thing I'm writing, so please don't get offended cos I'm really not being accurate at all - it's all fiction, just me and my interpretations and LOADS of imagination - I'm trying so hard to be imaginative for this story, hopefully it'll show AHAHAH. Any coincidence to actual traits of being a 'real Angel' is purely just that - coincidental. So I hope you'll be able to read past my weird angel interpretations and enjoy the story!
> 
> I'm not planning on this story to be long, but at the same time I have no idea if I will finish it up - I'm notorious for leaving things half-done in real life, so I hope for this fic I will not do the same .-.
> 
> Inspiration for this fic mainly came from the song The Cab's Angel with a Shotgun - my sister got me addicted to it, and now I hum it anytime I'm alone. Also, other inspiration came from the other Sherlolly Angel!lock stories that I know have been written but not sure if I've read them all AHAHAH but I know most of them are hot. Mmm.
> 
> Sorry for the long note .-.

Putting a few feet's distance between them, Sherlock lingered in the background, eyes fixated on his Charge as she walked on the pavement to her home. He had opted to use his legs rather than his wings, and was now casually walking behind her from a safe distance, hands shoved in the pockets of his trouser pants.

Clad in a black collared long-sleeved dress shirt with said sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and snug black trouser pants with a belt around his waist and black dress shoes on his feet, Sherlock was being blatantly visible in his Mortal form, blending in with the Mortals; his ebony wings, much like the colour of his curly hair, curled up tight on his back, invisible to all Mortals. Angels hardly did that - lower themselves to be on a same level as their Charges - but he had always been the odd one amongst his Brothers and Sisters, ever since his conception. Mycroft, one of his closest Brothers, disapproved of his methods, but was more tolerant of his quirks, as long as they did not cross any divine line meted out by Him. Young Sherlock had always skidded near the line, stating numerous times how bored he always felt in Heaven, until he had been old enough to be assigned a Charge.

Molly Hooper. Such a plain name. Young Sherlock had scoffed at the mere mention of his Charge's name, but one look from Mycroft discouraged him from making any further comments. Upon the confirmation of M. Hooper's continued existence on Earth after two years, Sherlock, having only reached teenhood in Angel years, was finally sent down to Earth to protect and look after her.

Having entered the Hooper abode, just one look at the toddler and Sherlock wanted to retch. She was so small, so fragile. Babbling in utter gibberish, she had clenched and unclenched her hands in front of her towards her Mortal parents, both male and female who were showering her with attention and affection. As the male parent (Andrew Clarke Hooper, heart surgeon judging by the qualifications on the wall) carried her up, bright happy little Hooper looked over his broad shoulder.

And blinked at Sherlock.

He, in turn, narrowed his eyes at her. He was aware that Mortals had heightened senses in the beginning of their lives because of their innocence and purity, thus making them more sensitive to the world around them compared to the older Mortals. It seemed that little Hooper had either noticed him, or had sensed his presence, for she babbled something out, and then suddenly pointed her pudgy little finger in his direction.

His breath catch at the possibility of being caught so early on in his duty, and he was about to run behind that floor lamp next to him when the female parent cooed at his Charge. Neither parent turned to his direction, but Hooper still watched him with those large brown eyes. Until she decided he was not worthy anymore of her attention, in which she turned back to her parents and started another one of those incoherent rants.

Teen Sherlock did not realise he had held his breath until he unconsciously let go of it, knowing full well he was invisible all along. Angels were normally invisible because of their angelic force, but could make themselves visible at will in a Mortal form, especially when their Charge was in trouble and they had to be protected - being invisible enabled one to hide, but nothing else could be done in that form due to its intangible element, thus the requirement to be visible to mete out a punishment because of tangibility. However, being physically seen in Angel form by their Charge, or by any other Mortal, would lead to undesirable consequences back in Heaven. It was an Angel's duty to protect the Mortals, as they were His children, but once spotted in their natural state, it could cause disbelief and separation between Mortals. There had been cases where Angels were seen, and at one point in Mortal history it had divided them and their faith to the point that bloodshed occurred. It was irrational, to fight to death over the belief if Angels did exist, but Mortals were a unique bunch of beings; not one Mortal were the same, even between Mortal duplicates from the same female parent.

Being seen by any Mortal would lead to the guilty Angel being stripped of their Angel status, and divine execution would be meted; as He was merciful, however, the Angel would reincarnate as a Mortal in human or animal form on Earth, in any time period, with them no longer having any memory of their time as an Angel. Their fellow Brothers and Sisters would grieve for their fallen Angel, but another would take their place when the time came. Upon death of the Angel on Earth, they would subsequently be reincarnated as another human or animal, ensuring they would never be an Angel, and the cycle would go on.

Molly had turned the corner and disappeared around it; taking longer strides, Sherlock quickly reached the corner and watched as she entered the lobby of her apartment building. He saw her gave a small greeting to the night guard on duty, and made small talk with him, before she went up to take the lift to her apartment. Still not satisfied with her apparent safety, Sherlock leaned against one of the outer walls of the building and looked up, sharp eyes narrowing his line of sight to her apartment window. He mentally counted the expected time it would take for his Charge to turn on the lights within and, there it was - her lights went on, indicating she had indeed reached home.

Sighing, he lit a cigarette. Blowing the smoke into the cool air, he relaxed against the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter immediately up so that readers could know more about what's happening - I hope it makes sense AHAHAH also, I noticed I used Protector and Angel - I just thought about the difference, and I think that the Brothers and Sisters Sherlock has are Angels, but only some of them are assigned Charges, thus making some of them Protectors of their Charge. Anyway, this is the second pre-written chapter, so now I'm off to write more!

The first time Hooper had gotten herself in real danger was when she was 10. Before that, danger consisted of falling down and bumping into sharp furniture edges - well, those dangers would have come true if not for Sherlock's (reluctant) intervention. That one time he had decided not to help his 5-year-old Charge out (he was in a bad mood due to yet another one of Mycroft's lectures), she had tripped over a small pebble jutting out of the earth and fell face-first into a pile of rocks that were unfortunately sharp enough to cause her to be sent to the hospital for stitches on her forehead and cheek. She had cried, unconsolable, and he had stood in the room looking decidedly uncomfortable and guilty. At the point of impact, not only did she feel the pain, he had felt it too - his forehead felt like there was a physical line across it and his cheeks felt like it was bleeding, but these injuries never physically manifested themselves on him. He had forgotten one of Mycroft's advices on why an Angel should try his best to protect his Charge - any pain felt by them, their Angel would feel it too. The pain would dull and soon hurt less as the years passed, once the Angel was familiar with his Charge, but the pain could still be felt nonetheless. Sherlock never wanted to feel any unnecessary pain anymore through his Charge, thus his continued effort to prevent her from getting harmed. Her cries had also made a weird sensation in his chest - it had felt like something clenched in his chest - and he never wanted to feel that again.

His efforts continued until she reached 10, when that Incident happened. Hooper was reading on her own in a quiet corner at the back of her classroom (honestly, Sherlock had been disappointed to find that his Charge was a quiet bookworm; compared to his other Brothers' and Sisters' Charges, who had rebelious streaks in them that ensured a little excitement when watching over them, Sherlock was stuck with a boring girl whose nose was constantly buried in a book of some sort); during break time, she would eat her lunch that her Dad made for her while she sat reading, while Sherlock lounged around the classroom, his black wings ruffled with restlessness. He had decided to colour his wings in that dark colour to match his dark hair, and it had not gone well with his other Brothers and Sisters, who had kept to their original white colour of their wings; they had thought him a rebellion, while he argued that the colour of wings nor hair (as some actually had green and purple hair) made no difference to their duties. Mycroft was the only one who did not oppose the decision, although he also did not verbally approve of it; he had merely raised an eyebrow when Sherlock lifted his chin in defiance. Truth be told, half the reason why he had coloured his wings was because he really did want to feel rebellious - not like his Charge would be a rebellion anytime soon anyway, and it was getting boring.

Sherlock was laying on top of an empty desk, his head over the edge and his eyes looking around the now upside-down room, when three pairs of unfamiliar feet strode into his line of sight, having walked through the back door of the classroom. Righting himself, he jumped down the table and saw that a confrontation was about to happen.

"Hey, Hooper," the tallest girl amongst the three called out, hand on a hip. His Charge ignored her, still seemingly absorbed in her book.

"Hooper, I'm talking to you," the girl called out once more, this time in a higher pitch voice.

"What?" Hooper replied, and Sherlock could hear the disinterest in her voice.

"When I'm talking to you, look at me," Tall Girl shrilled once more, mimicking their English teacher's catchphrase.

Hooper turned and looked at her. "What?"

"Recognise this?" Then Tall Girl produced a silver chain in her hand, and Hooper's eyes widened.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. Tall Girl had somehow gotten hold of Hooper's necklace. How did that happen- oh, right; it must have been that time Sherlock decided he had been bored enough that he flew back up to Heaven for an hour to play around with his Brothers.

That necklace was not any other necklace, however - the pendant within held a picture of her fairly recent deceased mother on one side when opened, and a picture of her father on the other side. It was a sentimental treasure, one he knew Hooper would never let it go.

"That belongs to me," Hooper lashed out, jumping out of her chair. "Give that back to me."

"No, I like it," Tall Girl said, fingering the pendant then popping the clasp open. "I think I wanna take out these pictures and put my face in them-"

Before Sherlock could register what was happening, his Charge charged at Tall Girl and tackled her to the ground. They wrestled for dominance and the necklace; Tall Girl's two lackeys merely stood at the corner, eyes wide with fear. Hooper received a kick to the waist during the wrestle, and the pain that Sherlock felt in return prompted him to do something.

Looking around the room, he had just formulated a plan to execute when a sharp pain at the back of his head caused him to stumble a step back. Looking back at the fighting girls, he felt another stab of pain at the back of his head as he watched Tall Girl, who had managed to straddle Hooper on the floor and had two fistfuls of her opponent's hair, slam her head down. Another pain, a cry from Hooper, and Sherlock saw red.

The inactive overhead fans of the classroom began to move and spin at their maximum speed. Loose papers around the room flew up and tousled around, making a mess and a lot of noise. Tables and chairs in the classroom made a ruckus as they moved and flew, screeching as their legs slid across the floor and loud bangs as they collided in the air. Tall Girl's lackeys screamed out in fright and ran out the room through the back door, while Tall Girl let go of her grip and staggered up into a standing position; Hooper was near unconscious, although she was still breathing.

Tall Girl made a run for the nearest exit by the back door, but the door immediately slammed closed in her face; the sound of another door slammed, the door near the front of the room. A click sounded. No matter how many turns the terrified girl made on the lock, the door would not budge. Suddenly, all activity stopped - the fans stopped moving, the flying papers all fell to the floor, the tables and chairs dropped simultaneously while missing the two mortals in the room. Then the glass shutter windows closed one by one, and somehow no light penetrated through the transparent material. When the last window closed, the room engulfed in darkness.

Tall Girl screamed herself hoarse, hands desperately banging against the wooden door. Tears of fright rolled down her cheeks, and her small body shook in fear. It was dark, very dark - she could not even see her own hands.

A low unfamiliar male voice whispered in her right ear. "Such a Mortal dare hurt His child, shall be punished as deemed appropriate."

She screamed once more, then promptly fainted. As soon as her body flopped to the floor, the papers immediately flew back to their original places and the tables and chairs righted themselves to their previous positions.

Still physically visible due to the punishment he had just meted on Tall Girl, Sherlock grabbed at the fallen necklace then quickly made his way to his Charge, immediately hoisting Hooper's limp body into a sitting position and bracing her head against his shoulder. Knowing he had precious few seconds left, he clasped the necklace around her neck and held one hand to the back of her head. It felt sticky.

Murmuring the recovery chants Mycroft had forced him to remember, the bump at the back of her head began to heal, but at the same time Sherlock felt himself become slightly weakened. Not much, but enough to recall that Mycroft had said that when using his abilities to meet out a punishment or to heal his Charge, his own angelic force would be weakened, and one of the setbacks was that invisibility would be affected.

Still out in the open in his Angel form, his wings visible for anyone to see, Sherlock hurriedly mumbled the chants, urging the healing to quickly complete before he was found out. Noises outside the room, in the corridor, caused him to break his concentration, and one last feel on the back of his Charge's head felt like the bump had been significantly reduced, so he quickly laid her down on floor and ran to the other corner of the room, furthest from the back door they would most likely be entering from. With barely enough angelic force within him, he managed to turn invisible just before an adult Mortal and those two lackeys entered the room.

Oh, how much pleasure he could take from the mere display of terrified surprise in their eyes as they looked about the room, but he was not interested in them. Once he felt himself strengthened, she made his way to where the teacher was inspecting his Charge, feeling the back of her head and whispering for her to wake up.

Then, Hooper stirred. Her eyes slowly opened, those brown eyes he thought he would never see for a long time, and a relieved sigh involuntarily escaped him. Said brown eyes roved around the room, and landed on her teacher's face. She asked what happened, and the older woman told her how the two lackeys had spilled the beans and confessed that she had been attacked by Alina (Tall Girl), and that she had her head hit the ground. The teacher asked if anywhere hurt.

Sherlock held his breath as Hooper seemed to consider her question. She said no.

The angel leaned against a table and slumped his shoulders in exhaustion. He watched as Hooper was carefully brought up to her feet, with support by the teacher and one of the lackeys, and his Charge had asked where Tall Girl was. The second lackey went around and stumbled upon Tall Girl's prone body near the back door; it seemed that they had somehow overlooked her in their determination to get to Hooper. The two lackeys helped Hooper out the door while the teacher bent down to carry the other student.

Once they all left, Sherlock felt a presence next to him. "You were very careless today, Sherlock," came the recognisable authorative voice of Mycroft. "Molly Hooper would have paid the price of it with her life - Alina Davis is by no means a weak child, as demonstrated by that display of strength."

"I know that, Myc," Sherlock hissed out, using the nickname of his Brother's name in a bid to irritate him enough to leave him alone. "And I still protected her, and she was not feeling any pain after I said those recovery chants."

"But at what cost, Sherlock? She felt the pain as Alina Davis hurt her. You felt the pain. Do not let your Charge get hurt. Many angels have experienced the death of their Charge, and some had held their bodies through it, even; sometimes, our force will not be enough to recover them. The death of one's Charge, excluding those through natural circumstances or mortal diseases or meted punishment for the henious crimes, might very well be the end of you, Brother dearest. I have seen fellow Brothers and Sisters who failed to protect their Charge wither away, eventually becoming Mortal themselves. Unless it is meant to be their time to depart, do not let anything happen to your Charge."

"Whatever."

"You have to take this seriously, Sherlock-"

"I know what I'm doing, alright?" Sherlock shouted, finally looking at Mycroft in the eye. "I am not going to let any more grevious hurt befall Hooper."

He took a deep breath and exhaled it before continuing. "And I...understand how close I have been to losing Hooper. Her hurt is my hurt. I have made an erroneous mistake by thinking about myself and dismissing my duties as Protector to my Charge, and I...regret it. I have made it my lesson, and I shall not repeat it. Not at the cost of Hooper's future hurt."

Silencr befell between them and Sherlock averted his gaze. He leaned once more against the table, and they both did not say a word until Mycroft laid a hand on his shoulder.

"You have grown up, Sherlock. May this be a valuable lesson to you, one that you shall not repeat. You are indeed doing your duties as Protector nonetheless, and I am proud of you."

Feeling the hand lift from his shoulder, he also felt the disappearing presence of his Brother. Alone once more, Sherlock let out a sigh, pushed himself off the table, brushed the tops of his wings for a second, then made his way to the school's infirmary to look for Hooper.


End file.
